Unusual Circumstances
by Nelui Wysteria
Summary: Things were forgotten that magical humans never meant to forget, but We of the Forest remember. They call us wizard killers, creatures, half breeds, and beasts because they fear our power but they know nothing of our true power. They know nothing of you, Harry Potter, one of our own. Make them pay! Creature Fic! Dark/Powerful Harry Potter! Tom Riddle/Harry Potter
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

 _"One shall be born from small beginnings which will rapidly become vast. This will respect no created thing, rather will it, by its power, transform almost everything from its own nature into another."_

 _Leonardo Da Vinci_

"Hurry, Catherine!" a tall man in a dark hooded cloak yelled, reaching for the woman's hand and pulling her along with him. The urgency of their footsteps echoed through the too quiet dungeon corridor. The woman called Catherine picked up her plain skirts with her free hand and began to run with him, trying to keep up. Behind them, shouting started and soon an alarm was blaring loudly throughout the stone castle.

They had been discovered!

They rushed down another staircase as the corridor behind them began to faintly glow with the orange of torchlight. The man quickly pulled her through an open archway into the night; tall glass buildings lined the path they followed, gleaming in the half-moon's light. As they passed the luminous buildings, their feet crunching in the dirt and gravel, they stepped into an open hillside facing a shadowed forest where tall and short figures, each with a grim expression upon their faces, stood waiting in silence. The short ones' complexities were deep forest green that blended with the shadowed greenery of the forest and their long black hair was braided with various colored fabrics and oddly shaped beads. The taller figures loomed over their shorter comrades, their cloaks bulging in odd places, but the light of the moon revealed nothing of their nature.

The man raised his hand and those standing at the tree line threw off their cloaks with mighty shouts, revealing polished armor and sharp weapons covered with intricate designs and runic lettering. The shorter creatures started hopping up and down, stamping their feet loudly while their taller companions sharpened their beaks against their shields and swords, their feathered heads ruffling in agitation or perhaps excitement. Their leader turned and stared at them all for a brief moment, seeming to communicate only with his eyes, before he nodded and they all let loose loud cries of high pitched screams and piercing eagle-like caws. They thrust their swords in the air before they ran past Catherine and the cloaked man to meet those that followed them.

"What are you doing!?" Catherine shouted in panic, fear filled her voice and made her shout turn into a shriek when the man holding her hand let go and turned, drawing his blade.

"Run!" he commanded without looking behind him.

"Sal, no!" she screamed as he ran towards the now burning castle filled with the sound of screams and clashing metal. She took a step forward, arm outstretched towards the man she knew as Sal, as he disappeared back over the hill. She watched as the fire grew and the castle's once polished grey stone turned black and charred. The moon was quickly shrouded by dense plumes of smoke. Tears streaked down Catherine's face as she cried for those that had and would still die this day. Everything she tried to accomplish and all that she had fought for was now in conflict and ruin.

She turned towards the forest and ran, her heart's pain urging her forward.

oOo

Harry woke from his dream with tears in his eyes, his heart racing in fear. He roughly wiped at his face as he slowly came to his senses. He was at the Dursley's, there was no fire or men screaming, it was all just a dream. Harry took a deep, shuddering breath and threw his legs over the edge of the bed to stare at the wood floor paneling.

"Boy!" his Uncle's voice shouted from the other side of the door. "Wake up boy!" he growled through the vent before slamming it closed, shutting out what little light the cupboard had. Eight-year-old Harry ran a shaking hand through his sweat soaked hair and felt around for his clothes, waiting for someone to remember to actually unlock the door so he could get out.

The sound of shifting metal and clanking keys signaled the arrival of his freedom from his room under the stairs. As the door opened, Harry dashed out of the room and down the hallway to the kitchen before his Uncle could grab him and whack him again. He still had bruises from the night before for his "funny business" and he wasn't ready for more.

Starting breakfast for his Uncle and his family, Harry's mind drifted to last night's dinner. He hadn't _meant_ to do anything wrong and he was trying so hard to show that he could get things done right. Uncle Vernon was never pleased with anything Harry did, but still Harry was determined to prove his worth. Dudley, his cousin, had other plans though and when he saw Harry carrying the bowl of gravy to the dinner table, he stuck out a foot and tripped him.

Harry didn't really understand what happened after that. One minute he was falling and the gravy went up in the air, then suddenly it was laid out on the table perfectly, as if he hadn't tripped at all.

Uncle Vernon exploded at him, yelling and calling him names; he reminded Harry that he wasn't worth the trouble and after everything they had done for him, he should be grateful that they hadn't drowned him as a baby. Then the hitting came. Harry barely remembered what transpired, the bruises proved it was real though, and so Harry renewed the effort to try even harder to make his Uncle and his family happy.

Soon breakfast was over and Harry was given some toast and water before Aunt Petunia pushed him towards the back door to weed the garden. Shoving on his too-tight sneakers, he opened the door and stepped outside. Only, when Harry looked up, the backyard wasn't there. In its place was an emerald green forest with trees that had tinted blue and purple leaves.

He swung around to look at the door he just came through, but nothing was there, only more trees.

"I knew you would come," a calm voice said, matter of factly. Harry's head whipped around to face the source of the voice and his green eyes grew wide in shock.

Before him stood a short, orange-scaled creature with large yellow eyes. Its brown hair was parted neatly to the left and large red rimmed glasses were balanced carefully on a long protruding nose. The creature bowed formally and rose, adjusting his green tweed jacket uncomfortably. "It _is_ rude to stare you know," the creature thrust its nose up into the air and sniffed. At its side it held a large ring of oddly shaped keys that jingled with his movement.

Harry quickly closed his mouth and apologized, "I'm sorry, I've just never met anyone like you before. Wh-where am I?" His inky hair swung back and forth as he tried to look at everything at once.

The creature smiled and said matter-of-factly, "Your mind. This is just a meeting place, something I created so that you could communicate with me."

"Who are you?" Curious green eyes peered into large yellow eyes and Harry noticed they had oddly shaped pupils; he thought the star shape was cool.

The creature bowed again. "Forgive me, I am the Ar- the Librarian. I am your temporary guide during the activation of your blood memories."

"My what?" Harry took a step back.

"Your blood memories." The creature looked at him over its glasses searchingly. "You haven't been told, I take it," the Librarian sighed and nodded, "Yes, I had suspected that such would happen. Follow me."

The Librarian began to walk away and Harry was torn between worrying about getting in trouble with the Dursley's and his curiosity for what was ahead. As the short creature continued on, clearly expecting Harry to follow, his decision was made. This was a dream and his Uncle and his family couldn't reach him here. Anything that happened in his mind belonged to him and no one else, so he decided to follow the strange creature and maybe figure out what was going on, if any of it was real at all.

As the Librarian walked, the forest changed to a small clearing where a bunch of creatures Harry could never even imagine before stood mournfully around a large tree. Some of the ones closest to Harry were sobbing quietly.

"Why are they all crying?" He was upset by the look of pain on everyone's faces.

"Because they grieve for the Forgotten One." The Librarian looked at the sapling tree and Harry watched as tears welled up in his yellow eyes. "When our dead pass, their bodies return to the forest of their birth and one of the trees chooses to honor them by marking where they lay, growing over the body and keeping that person's memories stored within its core." The Librarian sniffed and walked up to the tree and knelt on one knee before it.

Harry was unsure of what to do. He watched the creature silently as he knelt before the large tree. The sunlight seemed to make the leaves sparkle while a soft breeze rustled them gently. Where Harry stood, the ground seemed to pulse like a heartbeat. It was unnerving.

"Ulmas Galabra," the creature looked up at him his eyes now dry and full of something Harry couldn't quite place, "also known as Wych Elm." The creature's eyes looked back at the tree. "It marks the grave of Catherine, the woman in your dreams."

Harry stared at the tree in wonder and confusion. How could this be the Catherine from his dreams if he was dreaming right now? How was any of this real? Strange creatures and mind forests… Harry swallowed his panic as he thought about what Uncle Vernon would have to say about all of this. He would get worse than a beating for sure.

The Librarian stood and brushed the dirt off his brown and yellow plaid pants and took Harry's hand. "Come, that's enough for now. You have many lies ahead of you but at least one seed of truth has been planted. As you grow, so will that seed."

"Is any of this real?" Harry asked as they arrived back where they started.

The Librarian smiled widely at him revealing sharp black teeth and bright red gums. "Of course." He reached into a sleeve and pulled out some kind of white powder with flecks of grey in it, blowing it into Harry's face, making him sneeze uncontrollably. "We will meet again someday child." The Librarian's voice faded and when he managed to stop sneezing, Harry was back in the garden and it was pouring down rain. He rushed back inside to change and finish his chores before his Aunt noticed him "lollygagging".

oOo

Harry ran as fast as he could, his breath coming out in short gasps. The wind was roaring in his ears. It was late summer and the air was humid and hot, his glasses beginning to fog around the edges from his perspiration and hiding his bright green eyes. His ebony hair that was usually unruly and windswept, was damp with sweat and clung to his forehead and neck. Seeing a street sign up ahead he turned sharply left, skidding a bit on the street before picking up his pace again.

His heart was racing as he listened to the pounding feet of his oversized cousin, Dudley, and his friends in pursuit. They had found Harry at the park laying in the grass daydreaming. It was too hot for most parents to be out with their children, so Harry had the whole place to himself. Well, at least he did until Dudley and his gang showed up to harass and bully him for it.

"You better run freak!" Dudley growled out between loud huffs and snorts, his fat jiggling with each foot's impact.

Harry glanced behind him and saw that Dudley was slowly gaining on him, his friends close behind. How his cousin could even run at all was a mystery to Harry. Seeing a small opening between two houses, he quickly turned left and jumped the fence, right as his cousin reached out his hand to grab Harry's foot. As soon as Harry's feet hit the ground on the other side, a loud crack made Dudley and his friends grab their ears in pain.

Hoping to see that Harry had broken something trying to jump the fence, Dudley was disappointed to turn and find that he had run off again and was nowhere to be seen. Glaring angrily at the spot where Harry used to be, he shoved his friends aside and began to walk home.

It was a large and thorny bush that Harry fell into, yelping loudly, "What the hell!?" He struggled to stand up and yanked his clothes out of the brambles, earning himself a few scratches for his troubles. Why did this always happen to him? One minute he was running and the next minute he was… Harry looked around him grumpily as he plucked leaves and thorns out of his hair.

"In a bloody forest. Great…" He spoke aloud and looked around him for a moment, taking in the greenery, the way the trees stood so evenly apart, and how there was calf high ground cover everywhere, some with little white flowers. They were small trees, thin and white barked with eye shaped knots in their trunks. One of the eyes blinked at him and Harry, not sure that he saw what he saw, blinked back.

When he opened his eyes, he was lying in his bed at the Dursley's. The cupboard door was cracked letting in just enough light to make out the tattered cot he was laying on. Was it a dream? He didn't think so... It had felt so real! He quickly looked down at his hands and traced the reddened scratch marks from the thorny bush he'd fallen into. How did he get back here?

Suddenly, Harry felt as if someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over his head and he felt all of the blood rush from his face. He did it again. He did the "funny business" Uncle Dursley was talking about. Maybe he really was a freak...

What if his Uncle found out? Would he drown him this time, like he'd threatened? _No one would notice_ , Harry thought and silently pulled his cupboard door closed. He pulled his knees up to his chest and hugged them tightly as he cried into his pillow.

A small spider hid in the smallest corner of the cupboard and watched with all of its eyes, noting the small tremors of the young one. It pulled a gossamer thread and lowered itself down to begin a new web. The youngling liked his webs and always smiled and exclaimed over how pretty they were. He would make a new one so that when the young one woke, there would be something beautiful waiting for him.

Harry tossed restlessly in his sleep as he dreamt of strange creatures and their war. Catherine's face flashed between scenes of long arguments at a large table. He could feel the Librarian there with him, his presence nudging him in a certain direction. It felt like moving through tree sap, thick, layered, and sticky. Eventually the dreams stopped and his subconscious drifted into natural sleep.

The spider worked well into the evening and by morning, an intricate copper web hung in the corner of the cupboard. When Harry woke, he smiled as he caught its glimmer as he was rubbing his puffy eyes. The spider was nowhere to be seen.

oOo

A clawed hand slapped the table loudly, causing the siege markers to topple and a few of the others round the table to flinch. "I don't care what you cold bloods think! We need to attack with force!" The man shouting shook his long flaxen hair in annoyance revealing sharply pointed ears. His elegantly sweeping brows were furrowed over honey brown eyes that were glaring at the table. Firelight flickering from the stone room's wall sconces cast shifting shadows across his fine features and enhanced his high cheek bones. He sat back in his chair and adjusted his dark blue deer-skinned jacket and brushed invisible dust off of his brown deerskin pants while his boot covered foot tapped against the floor in agitation.

"Of coursssse thhhhat'sss what _you_ thhhiink Kail," a sibilant voice spoke from beneath a deep hooded yellow robe. "Your fondnessss for the-"

"That's quite enough, from the both of you," a short woman with long auburn hair spoke softly from her seat at the war table; all who heard it winced in pain as the magic in her voice was so heavy, it was almost unbearable to hear. "This war will be over before it starts if we cannot become united in our cause."

"Indeed. If we fight we must fight together. The Goblins of Grilwak will stand and fight." The leathery skinned goblin grinned wickedly around the table.

A happy voice sounded from behind a long and scruffy beard. "We Dwarves will not be joining this battle, life is too short for this." The small stocky man pushed away from the table and left to find his comrades.

The goblin barked out a laugh, "Ha! Dwarves, it was unlikely they would join. They're like children, no sense of importance for things larger than themselves. That one will probably be dead tomorrow."

"What of Catherine?" a formless shadow whispered from the corner of the dimly lit room.

Everyone around the war table went quiet. The silence was tense and uncomfortable, drifting on for several minutes.

"The Feylin say that she is recovering, but the magic surrounding her is fading. We will know by dawn if she will live," Khail murmured tucking a strand of his hair behind a pointed ear hiding his sadness behind a mask of indifference. "They betrayed her, they betrayed us, and this is price that magic asks."

oOo

The Librarian, or better known by his official title, The Arch, sighed and settled back in his large, cushioned office chair. He rubbed his temples, trying to relieve the growing headache he felt there. The child's mind was difficult to navigate. Some of sort of spell had been cast on him to prevent entry from anyone other than the caster. The Arch scratched at the scales on his scalp and shook his head.

"Harry Potter, you have no idea how important you are… No idea."

oOo

Writer's Note: A special thank you to my Beta/Alpha Team, lotrspnfangirl and DarkLadyEris, you guys make this possible! Thank you to my readers for your patience, I hope you like the "Unusual Circumstances" new rewrite.

As usual everything that belongs to J.K. Rowling is hers and any ideas that may coincide with other sources/fiction belongs to their prospective owners under copyright. I'm just a fangirl. A squealing, helpless, impulsive, fangirl.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

" _We sleep, but the loom of life never stops, and the pattern which was weaving when the sun went down is weaving when it comes up in the morning."_

 _Henry Ward Beecher_

A woman stood, staring at the shelves before her in silent contemplation, brushing her fingertips along the spines as she passed. Her golden laced sandals, trailing up to her calves, padded upon the mossy green marbled floor, echoing softly among the stacks. Her gown shimmered in the silver of the bioluminescent vines growing along the walls and ceiling making the thin blue and purple fabric sparkle iridescently. The layers clung to her waist and were held together with a red woven cord. A few of her curls fell into her face and she paused to reach up and brush the dark strands back behind a dark green, half pointed ear that was broken and twisted at the end, a reminder of people's cruelty.

She sighed in remembrance. There was a time when her mother once told her why she was treated unkindly by the other children. Mama had held her crying form to her bosom and rocked her as she spoke, "Aureanna my beloved child, do not let fear weigh you down, for like a stone in the water your heart will sink and you will know nothing but pain." Aureanna smiled softly and reached for one of the books in front of her, it's bind was blank but aged and frayed upon its edges. She opened it and stared at the blank pages before her as she thought about how right her mother had been. The pain she had suffered for so long before she found this place, The Atrium.

It was a great archive. Belonging to the many races borne by magic. Its rooms, vast and uncountable and it's knowledge, limitless. Its presence cast long into memory as it has always been, throughout time. Some say it simply appeared along with its artifacts, scrolls, and books. Others claim that it is the lost library of Alexandria, magical humans mostly. She laughed out loud at that, her voice tinkling like a bell against the stone walls and marble floors. The Atrium was far older than The Burning of Alexandria.

The walls began to whisper to her and she turned and nodded at a small mirror propped up on one of the wooden book stands at the end of a bookcase before turning and leaving the room.

oOo

The Arch sat in his darkened office, the flickering of a hovering orb at his desk cast eerie shadows across the wooden paneled walls. His orange scales shimmered brightly in the pale light as he watched the images play out before him. He was watching the young Harry Potter eat the toast and water that his female guardian laid out for him. His yellow eyes narrowed and the black star shaped pupil thinned until it was barely visible as he watched the woman hit the young boy with a broom to get him out the door and into the garden. There really wasn't anything he could do yet other than watch until it was time. To interfere now was to put the boy's life at risk, only a few more hours and he would be able to help free the child of his prison. The Arch sighed and snapped his fingers, the drapes along the wall pulled apart letting in bright sunlight that illuminated the whole office. He sighed deeply and leaned back into his leather chair, "It's beginning." He said to himself as he waved a hand at the orb, it blinked out without a sound.

It was going to be a difficult journey for the young boy, he had no idea who he was.

oOo

Harry Potter was turning ten this summer. Not that there was anything to be excited about. He usually just spent the day alone in his cupboard talking to the spiders and wishing that someone, anyone, knew he existed. And so when he awoke on July 31st he was surprised to find his cupboard covered from top to bottom in copper webbing. He froze after he put his glasses on and stared at the way the morning sunlight shining in from beneath the cupboard door made the copper webs glow brightly. Noticing movement on one of his shelves he turned to stare at four small brown spiders of various sizes lined up watching him.

Harry smiled, "Thank you, it's very beautiful. The best present I've ever had." The largest spider crawled over to the edge and Harry put out his hand to let it crawl onto him. They stared at each other for what seemed like forever, Harry smiling brightly and the spider unmoving in Harry's palm. The spider crawled up to his wrist and sank its teeth deep into the vein there.

Harry yelped loudly and shook his hand. "What was that for?!" When he finally looked up, angry but worried that he had somehow squashed his only friend, there was no more webbing and all the spiders were gone.

Harry looked down at his wrist for the bite mark but only two circular scars remained. Maybe they didn't make them for me, maybe it's just ma…." Harry shook his head and crammed his shoes on and left to finish all his chores as quickly as possible. Strange dreams of orange people who cried over trees, he was going spider that bit Harry watched as he left before crawling between the cracks and disappearing from sight.

That afternoon found Harry slaving away in the bathroom, scrubbing the tiles with a cleaning brush and trying not to add more bleach stains to his already ugly hand-me-downs. Rain hammered the sole bathroom window and Harry looked up at it grumpily. The bright morning had quickly turned grey shortly after breakfast completely ruining his plan to hide out somewhere in the park for the day.

He wiped a drop of sweat from the tip of his nose, stood, and went to the window and peered out at the grey clouds that flashed with lightning. Sometimes he wished that he could stand out there, in the middle of the storm and let the rain pelt down on him until he was numb to the bone. He could almost imagine the cold water on his skin and clothes and smell the ozone and wet soil. He had no idea how long he had been staring when he stumbled and fell into a wooden display that clattered to the marbled floor loudly. Harry looked around him as he sat stunned with his mouth wide open. All around him were thin threads of light, pulsing with color and humming loudly. Wide eyed he reached out his hand slowly and traced a vibrant blue thread with a finger. The thread started to vibrate and the hum grew so loud he clapped his hands over his ears in pain but it didn't help. The sound only grew louder and the light from the threads glowed brighter until it made his eyes hurt and he had to close them against the light.

Suddenly, as if someone had turn off a switch, the pain in his head was gone along with the hum. Hesitantly he opened his eyes expecting to feel the bright lights piercing through his head. He blinked slowly and looked around the empty bathroom. Lightning flashed, casting shadows against the wall and he turned to look out the window once more in confusion. What had just happened? Did he fall asleep? Had it been another dream? He shook himself and tried to push back the unsettled feeling in his stomach and knelt to pick up his scrub brush. Just as he started to work on the grout between the tiles Aunt Petunia pushed the door open.

"When your finished with that you Uncle needs his shoes polished for work tomorrow and Dudley has another tear in school uniform that needs fixed as well." She stared over his head as though he wasn't even there and he watched her body tense as he looked up at her before he quickly looked back to the floor.

"After that come see me for instruction for dinner." With an abrupt click the bathroom door was closed once more and Harry was left alone.

"Yes, Aunt Petunia." He muttered to the floor, absently itching the bite scars on his hand as the soapy water agitated them.

oOo

Later that evening as Harry was fixing the tear in Dudley's pants that no doubt had come from beating up some poor kid at his school he noticed one of his brown spiders perched on the edge of the shelf in his cupboard. He smiled at it before looking back at his work.

"I'm glad you aren't mad at me for yelling earlier. I suppose it's in your nature to bite when frightened and I am awfully big compared to you." He murmured softly so as not to draw attention from his Aunt who was sitting just around the corner in the dining room reading home magazines.

"I'm sorry if I did, frighten you that is." He looked up and saw that the second brown spider had joined the first and that they were both watching him with their many eyes. "I don't suppose you have names do you?" he said as he sewed in the finishing knot and bit off the stray end with this teeth.

The first brown spider, jumped off the edge and lowered down on its web to examine his stitching before crawling back up and nuding the second spider off the edge.

"Hey, that's not nice" He scolded the first spider. He hated bullies and that's what it looked like the first spider was doing. That was until the second spider dropped down into his lap and started undoing the stitching he had just finished. In fascination, he watched as the spider pulled the thin thread out before pulling on its own gossamer webbing and started to weave the tear together until it was completely closed. When it was finished the second spider crawled over to his hand and simply looked up at him. He stared for a minute in confusion. What did the spider want? Oh!

He lifted his hand back up to the shelf and let it crawl back over to the first. Looking back down at the pants that the spider had mended he picked them up and examined the seam. He frowned and tugged a bit, not wanting to ruin the spiders hard work but also not wanting his Aunt to punish him for doing a poor job. The webbing held tightly. He pulled a little harder and stared in awe and disbelief that the gossamer threading held tightly. He looked back up at the two spiders on his shelf and grinned. "Thanks!" He stood to fold the pants and place them in Dudley room before he had to report to Aunt Petunia for dinner.

Behind him the two brown spiders watched as Harry left the room before skittering up the wall to a hollowed out knot in on of the wood panels that made up part of a stair overhead. Inside the third brown spider pulsed and glowed softly in its copper cocoon. The two spiders crawled over to the cocoon and each started to spin copper thread around themselves until they too were completely contained and their cocoons began to pulse and glow alongside the other.

oOo 

It was hot at first. So very hot. And then it was cold, a cold so deep and so chilling it settled in the marrow and never left. He couldn't hear, nor taste, nor see, nor touch. The world was a senseless thing full of nothing but his gelid flesh. He wandered, timelessly, from place to place. Searching for what was lost. What was lost? He couldn't remember. What was there?

Flash- Grey stone walls and children laughing as they shoved a boy into a closet and locked it.

Flash- A young man was sitting at a desk taking notes from a book written in a strange language.

Flash- The room full of dark cloaks and white masks bow down to the brown eyed man standing at the opening of a cave a stick held high in the air.

Flash- Curious green eyes stare back at the man as he raises the stick surrounded by a green that almost matches the child's eyes. The boy doesn't even cry as his mother falls to the floor with a scream.

"Master." A voice came to him across the icy darkness.

"Master, I have brought you a vessel"

It sounded as though it was coming from a great distance before there was suddenly light and color. He gasped as felt the chill within him recede a little. He glanced around him carefully.

"My Lord!" a man said reverently as he knelt before him. His memories flooded back to him painfully.

"Quirrell, rise." he rasped out, his lips felt foreign to him. "Where have you brought me?"

Quirrell rose hesitantly to his feet. "We are in Schwarzwald my Lord."

"Schwarzwald...Germany...The Black Forest…"

"Yes, my Lord! I was in Romania when I felt your magic call to me. I came but found your spirit attached to a dying host that was fighting you off, so I went out and found you a more suitable one." Quirrel wrung his hands as he glanced to the side nervously.

"Hosssst…." He rasped once more and felt a brief pain as his dry lip cracked.

Quirrell quickly grabbed a mirror and knelt, hold the mirror for him to see his face. He was in the body of an old man graying and worn with age. A muggle. His lip curled in disgust. At least he was alive.

oOo

The Arch set down the weathered scroll he had been reading and leaned back against his chair yawning. He had been up since yesterday morning reviewing the documents of some ancient rivalry between two Vampyre families at the request of a friend. He scratched at his orange scaled scalp through his brown parted hair before mussing it up in a gesture of stress. He had been sitting there for what felt like _ages_. Quickly he checked the rotating orb at the corner of his desk. The strange device was bright blue and had three bronze rings that rotated slowly around the sphere. No change.

He sighed loudly, the sound of it disturbing the silence that had penetrated his office since he had started working several hours ago. "What am I going to do with that boy?"

The mirror on the wall began to whisper in a familiar voice.

"Ah! It's you!? How is the inventory going in sector H403?" He sat upright and listened intently.

"You need me to what?" A look of exasperation made the Arch reach up and rub circles at his scaly temples. He was beginning to feel a headache.

"And why exactly did you let Naria bring her pet wurm into that sector? You know she can't control what that thing eats…Yes, Yes, I'm coming down to sort it out. You better hope it hasn't eaten anything important Balimo, or it will be your head."

The whispering from the mirror ceased and the Arch shook his head as he began to roll up the scroll he had been reading previously. A faint light began to pulse from the orb on his desk humming loudly. The Arch lifted yellow eyes and stared at the orb for several second before he quickly reached over and grabbed it. It was time. It was finally time.

Quickly he gathered his bag and placed the order within it before rushing around the office and placing various objects within. "Aureanna! Please come to my office." It took a few minutes for her to arrive but when she finally did the Arch rushed towards the door, "Remember that you are in charge during my absence. Allow no one entry until my return." He checked his belongings as Aureanna nodded quietly her dark curls bouncing with the slight movement.

"Of course Arch, how long do you expect it to take?"

Her soft inquiry had him popping his head back around the corner. He stared at her with his old knowing eyes and she was reminded that the being before her was as timeless as the Atrium itself. "As long as it takes, Aureanna. As long as it takes." And the Arch disappeared around the corner.

oOo

Harry awoke covered in sweat, his clothes and mattress we're soaked through and as he ran a clammy hand through his wet hair he peered around him. His vision blurred as he pushed his glasses onto his face. The room swam for a brief moment as he stood before he grabbed the shelf keep from tipping over.

"Too hot…." He mumbled as he struggled to pull the latch on his cupboard door. When it finally opened with a soft click he nearly fell as he stumbled past the door. It was so hot and hard to think. He braced himself against the wall and turned to face his room. As he did so his vision brightened with threads of color like he saw when he was in the bathroom. This time hum was soft and didn't cause him any pain. He listens as he stared at the threads before him, it was like listening to wind chimes on a breezy day.

Hesitantly, Harry maneuvered himself so he could use one hand to push away from the wall, and he reached out to a pulsing yellow thread. He gasped. It felt like… like… "Magic…" He whispered in fear and awe. Glancing quickly up the stairs he listened for the telling signs that his relatives we're awake. When he heard soft snoring he relaxed back against the wall tiredly before slouching down to the floor. What was wrong with him?

He was in an out of consciousness for awhile but everytime he woke he would look blearily around him and see the threads of light and sound everywhere before his eyes would slide closed again. At some point he managed to stand and walk out the front door and as he stumbled down the sidewalk the street lamps harsh white glow blended with the threads of light and made his head swirl nauseatingly. He turned around to look back at Number 4 Privet Drive and his mouth parted in a soft gasp. Surrounding the entire house was a woven pattern of white and grey threads that pulsed so loudly it sounded like a heartbeat.

Ba-dum

Ba-dum

Ba-dum

He took a step closer and pulled on one of the white threads in delirium fueled curiosity and the pulse seemed to quicken and the light coming from the woven began to fade in and out like a siren light. With a snap the white thread broke and Harry quickly stumbled backwards as the whole thing came unraveled and the threads floated down before disappearing. He stared wide eyed for a few moments before taking a deep breath and closing his eyes.

He stood there breathing softly and trying to calm the spinning in his head. The nights breeze gently tousled what wet raven locks weren't plastered against his neck and raised goosebumps across his fevered skin. A flush was high on his cheeks as he stood there before the house. Harry opened his eyes and the threads were gone, the front door was open and casting an orange light onto the sidewalk. He staggered towards the front door, closed it behind him, and crawled into his cupboard cot before falling back into a deep sleep.

~Nelui Wysteria~

Thank you for your patience. :) I hope you enjoy this new chapter of "Unusual Circumstances"


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